


Reunited

by fullmoonrisin



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: 2x10 fix-it, F/M, Season 3 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 03:01:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15809973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmoonrisin/pseuds/fullmoonrisin
Summary: Vanessa comes to America in search of Ethan and they have a surprise reunion.





	Reunited

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaslyna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaslyna/gifts).



Up until that point, Ethan Chandler (or was it Talbot? He couldn’t remember which identity to attribute his long list of atrocities to anymore.) was certain he’d made a long list of mistakes in his cursed life. It was as he sat in a lonely cell deep in the heart of New Mexico territory that it occurred to him for an innumerable time that his latest mistake was perhaps his biggest. He never should have left; of that he’d been certain since the moment he caught sight of those abhorrent extradition papers, laid upon the desk by a man as unclean as he was, but perhaps more rotten in that he assumed himself a morally forthright man.   
More precisely, Ethan’s greatest mistake was found in leaving her. The vision of Miss Ives sprung into his mind, also not for the first time since he’d left. So poised and graceful, yet fierce and strong. Frightened yet brave. Fragile yet unbreakable. 

It had taken all of his will power to step out of her embrace for one final time, and the moment he was ensconced on a ship bound for America, he wanted nothing more than to go back. It was a deep yearning, almost as if he needed her like he needed the very breath in his lungs. Ethan had thought he was doing her a kindness after all that she’d been through. She didn’t deserve to have to take on his pain, as well. In retrospect, it was a cruelty to deny her the choice. For both of them. 

The wind swept violently through the open air window of his cell, and with it, there traveled a certain familiarity that he could not yet identify. Still it wrapped around him like a cloak, as if shielding him from his dire straights: hair shorn, demoralized, and destitute in some God forsaken cell at the behest of his own father. A human beast. Ethan was taken to that day on the moors when Vanessa first told him that his act of mercy had been cruelty. He supposed that had become the theme of their relationship; well intentions that bring more harm. He only wished that she truly could be safe and even happy back in London now that she’d bested the devil himself.

Suddenly, the torch giving him light in his cell was blown out by the swelling winds and he was left with only the moon. It seemed to be his only friend and his greatest enemy these days. He peered bitterly up at the glowing orb rising slowly into the evening sky, painted with a smattering of orange and pink. He’d lost track of time since his incarceration and was struck with the realization that tonight would be a full moon. It would be the second since he stepped off the ship, and the first since being left in this decrepit old cell. 

The beast did not stir yet, but its presence was there, just beneath the surface, impatient and ready. It wasn’t clawing to get out, but it was standing attentive and waiting at the door for an opportunity. 

There would be blood tonight.  
\-------------------------------------------------

There was pain, as there always is during the change. Bones bent and twisted, hair grew out, skin stretched uncomfortably, and even internal organs shifted about inside the abdominal cavity. It was an overall grisly process, bound to draw the attention of even the more inattentive guards outside.   
The beast let out a low roar as he took stock of his surroundings, unhappy at escaping the confines of his human counterpart’s body only to be faced with physical imprisonment. But this time, there were no shackles, no irons to hold the angry beast at bay. As suspicious jailers hurriedly filed themselves into the room, the beast leapt, tearing the iron barred door right off of its hinges  
There was blood. 

Claws slashed, teeth did rend, and flesh and guts spattered the walls. The beast fed.

But this time was different. The beast simply unleashed his anger, but there was no bloodlust after. He only felt compelled to follow the wind. To hunt this strange thing it carried down into the very horizon if need be. He needed to find the source. No. He needed to find her.

The beast took the briefest of moments to toss his head back and bay at the moon in an expression of its determination.

He knew she had come. He could feel it in his very blood. The scorpion called out to the wolf and the wolf had heard. The wolf longed to be near the scorpion. The feeling was profound in its strength and depth; something ethereal, like the demimonde itself. Ethan the man had always been a little afraid of this feeling, but the beast relished it; thrived on it, even. It carried him over the barren terrain, through the dust clouds being kicked up on the New Mexico wind storm, past patches of mesquite trees and small thickets of grass. He ignored the night creatures that would be his pray on any other full moon night. The desert bunnies, coyotes, and rattlesnakes spared this other worldly animal only a curious glance as he passed them by. There was no blood lust tonight. The beast only searched, and these tiny creatures were insignificant.

As he bounded over the land, he seemed to become more impatient and restless with each step forward. He could feel himself getting closer to his goal, but not close enough. There was never really a concept of time during these transformations, but it felt to the beast as if he’d roamed for days, at least. A week. A month. A year. Just when it grew unbearable, a settlement came into view. He cared not for the dangers of being seen. He knew that this was it. This was where he would find her. 

A soft, disbelieving gasp shook him from his pace just outside the small town. It was the sound of heaven to him; the beast being called by his master.

“Ethan?”

What she was doing outside at this hour was inconsequential at that moment. Perhaps she was searching for something too. Perhaps she had felt him coming. At any rate, the beast did not care for reason. And neither did she. 

She watched, stunned and tearful, as Ethan’s animal form turned to face her. It regarded her with surprise, longing, and some deep, primordial emotion she couldn’t quite identify. He almost seemed more man than beast to her in that moment, advancing slowly toward her as soft, possessive growls emanated from his throat. It was as if she were an illusion that the beast felt would shatter if he advanced too quickly. They each found themselves transported back to the memory of a dark castle on another full moon night. Their last night together. This time, the wolf had no intention of fleeing from her and his vocalizations turned mournful at the memory. Both of the beings inhabiting that body had waited far too long for this reunion.

Vanessa stood frozen. She was still overwhelmed with the surprise of the sudden meeting and the ensuing onslaught of emotions to move from where she stood rooted to the earth as if she were a tree. Time stood still for several long seconds stretched out into an eternity as blue eyes met yellow and they simply stared at one another. It came lurching back into motion as the beast charged through the remaining distance between them and gently embraced his scorpion with clawed hands. She let out a sob as she felt herself being pulled roughly to him and her hands went up to either side of his furry cheeks as their foreheads met. Their names repeated in eachother’s minds like a mantra.

The wind whipped at them harshly, surrounding them in an aura of dust, dirt, and other earthen scraps. Vanessa’s loose raven hair was whipped about with ease, but she didn’t care. Nature itself seemed to be celebrating their reunion. They were bound by fate, and it was there in the midst of the dust storm that they acknowledged the truth of what that meant for the first time. No force could or would part them. Only they could do that, and they wouldn’t let it happen again. That was the unspoken vow they communicated silently through their gazes. The promise of nights spent in ecstasy and of days picking herbs and making rabbit snares. Of mornings feeling less afraid than the day before because they face their demons together.

“Vanessa.” Ethan sputtered, voice broken by tears and self-loathing as the beast receded before her very eyes; beneath her touch.

“Ethan.” She breathed in reply, shedding weeks of stress and feeling somewhat reborn in that moment. He watched a flicker of sadness pass across her eyes as she remembered the words from his parting letter. The words “deep in the clay on a forgotten hill” stinging at her heart again. And yet here he stood, very much alive. Not buried on a forgotten hill. That much she had learned weeks ago just after his departure, but standing here and seeing him for herself again released tension she hadn’t realized she had been harboring. The flood gates opened and tears began to fall. Ethan simply held her close in understanding, silently admonishing himself for causing her pain.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Once their surprise reunion outside the town had fizzled out, Vanessa spirited him inside her quarters. They were both keenly aware that he was now a fugitive and time was of essence, but their worldly struggles could wait for just a while longer. 

He waited while she changed into her night clothes and offered nothing but an arched brow and a word of thanks when she produced fresh clothes for him from Malcolm’s own wardrobe. There were words unsaid between them and he wasn’t sure how he should proceed. Luckily, Vanessa was direct as always.

“It hurts more than I thought it would. Seeing you.” There was a sad, but affectionate smile on her lips and guilt rose up in Ethan once again like bile in his throat at her words. He fixed her with a sorrowful gaze, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“Van-“

She quickly shushed him in response, tenderly placing a hand at the base of his neck. 

“You asked me to forgive you, and I knew not what for, but I did. I still do.” She spoke to him softly, attempting to assuage this beautiful, kind man before her, who had come to believe that no amount of reproach would ever be enough for his sins.

“But your words still haunt me. The thought of you walking off to the gallows.”

“The sins I have around my neck—” 

“Are not your own.” She interjects sharply, softening just as quickly. She had looked into him; seen his beast. She knew that each half of him was responsible for its own deeds.

He sighs. “I thought I was doing you a kindness; sparing you from my darkness.”

“It was cruelty.” She says simply and without judgment, referencing a conversation they’d had months ago in the moors. 

God that seemed like a different lifetime. 

Ethan shut his eyes tight at the memory. He could almost feel himself writing that letter. Looking back on it, he couldn’t rightly say why he’d thought it a good idea. 

“I know, Van.” He felt her tremble underneath his fingertips at the nickname. “God, I know. And I’ll spend every day trying to make up for the hurt I caused, but we need to figure some things out.” The fact that he was a fugitive from the law and his father was suddenly present at the forefront of his mind. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He just wanted her touch. Leaving had been a mistake and he planned on rectifying it in short order.

“Later.” Vanessa placed a finger to his lips. “Stay with me tonight?”

“And tomorrow?” Ethan brings his forehead down to hers, peering curiously into her piercing blue eyes. 

“We shall face our demons.” She smiles a watery smile, happy to be in his arms. Their situation is both more desperate and more hopeful than the last time he held her like this. But at least there was tomorrow, of that they could both be sure. Tonight, the harsh reality of the world outside could wait.

For the moment, Ethan allowed his worries and his guilt to melt away and they looked deep into one another for a long minute before lips, teeth, and tongue came crashing together in a fierce kiss born of primal need and fueled by their separation. Their passion was matched only by the howling winds outside, battering against the walls in an angry roar. There was moaning, and neither could be sure exactly who had been responsible as their hot breaths mingled and then they kissed some more, slowing after an indefinite period of time that seemed to stretch out into forever yet only lasted a few moments.

There was a sudden, loud crash of thunder that shook the walls—shook them—to their very foundations. They separated slowly, not willing to compromise physical touch as their breaths came out in desperate pants and their chests heaved in arousal. Vanessa moved a hand up on instinct to brush through Ethan’s hair and frowned as her fingertips met the close cropped hair that remained.

“Oh, Ethan.” She sighed in sympathy. He could feel her presence enveloping him, searching his being, taking his pain and making it hers. She peered up at him with those all-seeing eyes of hers, nothing but understanding written in them as she caressed his face again with her hands.  
“Show me.” It wasn’t a request, Ethan recognized.

He was still in his jail clothes, tattered as they were from his transformation. His hands moved from about her waist and lifted to his collar as he gazed down at her tenderly. He was stilled by Vanessa’s own hands on his just as quickly.  
“Let me.” Again, it wasn’t a request.

Ethan felt his hands drop to his sides and Vanessa set to work unbuttoning his shirt; tattered and bloodied as it was. She worshipped his skin, placing soft kisses with each new patch she exposed, blazing a trail down his middle. She took her time showing him the extent of her tenderness for him, her empathy. With each open button she would linger before moving to the next. It was a familiar ritual he’d seen only once before when they had tended to each other’s wounds after killing a man together in self-defense. This time she seemed to be offering more of herself. She let him know in her gentle touches that she was not afraid of this closeness; that they were not dangerous.

Eventually, the horrid garment fell off of Ethan’s broad shoulders and he stood exposed before her. He watched as she took him in, feeling no shame or self-consciousness about his abused, mal nourished state under her loving gaze. She put a hand to her mouth as she caught sight of his bruises and his ribs just beginning to protrude through tanned skin. The scorpion blazed on her palm with a possessive fury as her temper flared briefly and she resolved to hurt anyone still breathing who had a hand in inflicting such torment on her beautiful creature. 

“It’s alright, Van.” He attempted to quell the fury he saw raging in her eyes. She looked up at him sharply before her expression faded back into the tenderness it had been. Her left hand met his chest over his heart, right where the largest, angriest gash from the lashes he’d received was found. In turn, he covered it with his much larger hand, caressing the soft skin with his calloused thumb as he felt the beast rising inside him once more to commune with the scorpion.

“I will kill that man if I ever set sight upon him again.” Vanessa spoke darkly; a resolute truth as real as day.

Ethan chuckled. “It’s a bit late for that darlin’.” His words were punctuated by a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning and they became transfixed on one another once again. The deep longing began to resurface, if it ever truly subsided, as they held each other’s gaze. For the second time that night, they moved in tandem, reaching for each other’s faces and crashing together like the waves against an English cliffside. 

He growled into her throat as he backed them toward the bed, feeling the beast inside him rear up in anticipation. This had been too long in coming. Far too long, but they were here now. They were home and nothing would stop this union.

Vanessa made a series of indefinable noises as Ethan trailed his mouth down her jaw, her neck, her chest, down to the top of her nightgown, which was far too open than propriety demanded. But that was Miss Ives: ever a free spirit; a non-conformist in the repressed upper class of London. Her hands were everywhere. She grabbed for any part of him she could reach: his hair, his arms, his back. She didn’t care. He felt like home. Ethan was more focused in his expressions of passion, being driven by quite some time of built up fantasies for exactly this moment. He had established himself as the one in charge, and she was content to let him be for the moment.

She gasped in lurid excitement as he laid her down onto the bed and then unceremoniously ripped at her absurdly thin night clothes a moment later. His eyes met hers again in a silent request for permission before he allowed his gaze to drift down over her exposed skin. Deep in her wild eyes, he found a clarity. They spoke to him. She didn’t just consent to his silent request, she demanded it, offering the slightest of nods to punctuate her desire. He raked his eyes over her form, clad now in just a simple pair of knickers. He had always known Miss Ives to be a vision, but she was truly beyond any measure of comparison. Her skin glowed in the flickering light of the violent storm, as if calling to him like a beacon. Her breasts swelled perfectly above her slim belly, which itself seemed malnourished. He doubted she’d been eating much since he left and for that, he mentally kicked himself. His hand found her raven hair, which was splayed about on her pillow as if she were an angel and it was her halo. Now that would be ironic; she’d always thought of herself as damned for hell—nay deserving of it.

Sensing her peaking impatience, Ethan continued with his original ministrations. They would have other nights for learning to map out each other’s skin. Tonight was about a primal need to connect that was a force greater than either of them. At the urging of the beast within him, Ethan flipped her over and she let out a startled yelp in response. His eyes narrowed as he found what he’d been seeking. That cursed mark that marred her pearly skin sneered at him, still he found a strange beauty in it. It was a part of her, and there was nothing about Vanessa he could bring himself to see as anything less than immaculate. Her skin trembled at his touch as his fingers found the cross, and then a moment later his lips followed. He moved without pattern from the cross, to her shoulder, her neck, and just above her panty line. He was letting himself get carried away and he almost forgot that this night wasn’t the night for such lazy, carefree touching. Almost on cue, Vanessa let out an impatient groan and the beast spilled out of his lips in reply as he dug his fingers into her sides and roughly flipped her over.  
His hands were in her hair as their lips crashed together again. She let out a moan into his mouth as one hand wandered down and ripped at her knickers, violently but oh so tenderly yanking the garments down her vast, graceful legs. There was a moment of hesitation, a meeting of oceanic blue and earthy brown depths, before Ethan’s hand finally found her center. He watched in muted fascination as her eyes slammed shut. She felt his tender kiss at her lips, no trace at all of the devil that had plagued her intimate acts in the past, and then she heard him.

“Look at me.” A whisper. A plea. She would always oblige him.

Her face relaxed as her eyes met his again and his forehead was on hers.

“I’m home.” 

He meant it as a reassurance, but it was a realization, for both of them. With it, came a renewed vigor that drove them. She needed more of him, and he needed more of her. Now. 

She grabbed at his trousers as he kissed her again, continuing his motions between her legs. Ethan scrambled to move his legs out of the ratty jail clothes as they were shoved lower until finally there was nothing between them and they were truly alone with each other. She pulled at him fiercely, needing to feel him desperately and he reciprocated, replacing his hand to forge himself into her. The force and the intensity of it knocked the wind from both of them and they stilled momentarily, wanting to revel in this moment, to live in it forever, but wanting to ride out the storm of passion that was blazing between them. Ethan let out a half sob at the beauty of it and the knowledge that she really was here with him, finally. 

They moved together, meeting each other with equal and mounting desire for the other. There were stray touches here in there as they both assured themselves and each other that this moment was real. She caressed his face. He stroked her breasts. Their lips collided and their tongues mingled as they poured their emotions into one another. He lifted her up from the mattress and sat her in his lap as he continued his steady but sure rhythm into her heat. She began to grind him and it was all he could do to keep his eyes from rolling back into his head at the sheer pleasure of it. 

“How do you feel?” He gasped out, searching her face. She was taken off guard by the question as it dawned on her what he meant. She didn’t recall explicitly telling him that her possession had been linked to acts of such intimacy. Vanessa melted a little at this. In answer, she kissed him tenderly yet possessively, instinctively placing her hand over his chest. The center of his unearthly power.   
He understood. 

“I feel you, Ethan.”

At this, she felt herself being pushed back and he followed her forward, bracing his hands on the bars at the head of the bed as he ground into her with growing ferocity. They were hurtling toward the end; riding a wave of pleasure toward its peak. Vanessa feverishly grabbed at his ass in an effort to pull him deeper as he grunted out his end, sending her crashing over the ledge soon after. 

\-----  
In the aftermath of their union, they lay sated and intermingled among the bed sheets. Sweat glistened on their skin and their breaths had long since slowed. Like the storm of passion between them, the thunder and wind outside had ebbed, leaving behind the calmness of the desert night. The night creatures sang their songs and there was peace. All was right with the world, at least for tonight. In the dim light left by the dying fireplace and the lone candle still lit on the mantle, Vanessa’s voice pierced the silence. It was an echo of Ethan’s earlier assurance.

“You’re home.”


End file.
